


An American In Hogwarts

by StandUpForBastards



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Culture Shock, F/M, M/M, Slow Build, Slytherin!Albus, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-12
Updated: 2013-12-12
Packaged: 2018-01-04 10:53:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StandUpForBastards/pseuds/StandUpForBastards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Actually, two of them. Twins to be exact. When the McKeans transfer to Hogwarts at the beginning of seventh year, long-time friends Albus and Scorpius don't quite know what to make of them. Sure, they're nice enough, but a lot less nice are the long-buried emotions that are brought to the surface by the twins' unexpected arrival. </p>
<p>Eventual Al/Scorpius</p>
            </blockquote>





	An American In Hogwarts

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Folks! Normally, I'm not crazy about OC-heavy fics, but the Next Generation students open up so many opportunities for new characters, I just had to try my hand. The beginning of this fic will feature these characters pretty heavily, but a lot more familiar faces will be cropping up as the plot develops.
> 
> Well, that's all I've got to say. Enjoy!

That they were fraternal was of little consequence; anyone could see that they were twins. It was a remarkable thing, their similarity. They held their heads at precisely the same angle, tilted up and slightly to the right, conveying a kind of whimsy that the identical hardness of their lupine eyes betrayed. Four fair arms hung past two sets of slim hips, culminating in clean, recently manicured hands. Only in those hands was there any kind of conspicuous difference between the two. His nails were clean and clipped short, short enough to be perceived as a preventative measure against biting. One finger twitched, followed by another, confirming the notion. Hers were rather long, polished a deep purple, and nearly successfully hid nicotine stained fingertips.

  
If it weren’t for the spark in their eyes or the rich color of their lips, the alabaster complexion that the siblings shared could easily have been mistaken for a sickly pallor. Had they ever seen sunlight?

  
Another first-year squeaked as her name was called out. She gathered up her robes, which were much too long and dragged several inches on the ground, and scurried up to the aged stool and ancient hat. As it’s wide brim slipped over the young girl’s eyes, the female twin reached into her pocket and removed a small black object. It was thin and rectangular, a cigarette case perhaps? No, she was tapping at it angrily and nudging her brother in frustration when the object seemed to deny her the desired result of her drumming. He raised a dark eyebrow and shrugged, mumbling something undecipherable.  


The final first year was called. A Slytherin. Albus nearly forgot to cheer, focused as he was on the strange pair standing a few feet away. Scorpius elbowed him and exaggerated his own applause in order to remind Albus of his obligation to welcome a new housemate. Albus began to clap, but in vain, as Headmistress McGonagall stood quickly and silenced the thunderous ovation. The twins remained standing, but respectfully focused their attentions on the elderly witch in the deep blue robes.  


“Welcome students, both new and returning. I am pleased to be standing before you, once again, to preside over the reception feast, which under normal circumstances would commence immediately. However-”  


There were some barely contained groans, but an arched eyebrow from the Headmistress put an end to that.  


“However,” she continued, “We have a special circumstance this year. We have two students transferring to Hogwarts from the North Atlantic Academy of Magic in New York City.”  


The rumbling began as students seated far away from the center of the Hall craned their necks to get a look at their new American classmates. The whispers grew louder and this time no one was paying much mind to McGonagall’s eyebrow. She was forced to raise her wand. It let loose a deafening bang and a show of sparks. Quiet resumed immediately as more than a few students, as well as faculty members, shook their heads to relieve the ringing in their ears.  


“I will thank you to keep quiet until I have finished.” Her world-weary eyes flashed an unmistakable warning. “Transfers are unusual. Transfers as late as seventh-year are even more so. I expect you all to demonstrate the values with which you have been instilled, and go the extra distance to ensure that your new classmates adjust well to their new home and, come the spring, are proud to call themselves Hogwarts graduates.”  


“I don’t think Hogwarts has had transfer students in years,” Zanna whispered in Albus’ direction, “And they’re American! You’d never know, looking at them.”  


Castor snorted at her, “As if you could identify an American on sight. Have you ever even been?”  


“Shut up, you know what I mean.”  


“I really don’t.”  


Scorpius put up his hand to silence his friends. The group returned their gazes up to head of the Great Hall where Professor Oliveri had again picked up his scroll of names.  


“When I call your name,” His voiced boomed, “Please come forward and I will place the sorting hat on your head. Once your houses have been decided, you may join their tables,” He smiled warmly, “Chances are they will be the ones cheering the loudest.”  


He unfurled the parchment and called out, “McKean, Cameron.”  


The boy, Cameron, looked up and stiffened his shoulders. His sister gave his arm a gentle squeeze, the first sign of affection Albus had seen between the two. He walked forward and sat on the stool. Oliveri placed the hat on his head, the folds nearly covering his longish, tousled hair.

  
Cameron made a few strange faces during the silence, clearly a little perturbed by the talking hat on his head. Finally, the hat straightened up and called out, “SLYTHERIN!”  


The whole house whooped and hollered, Zanna louder than any of the others. She gave Castor a shove and hissed “Move over.”  


“Why should I?”  


“He’s got to sit somewhere hasn’t he? It may as well be next to me.”  


Scorpius laughed, “You planning on sinking your claws in an American then?”  


“American, Armenian, he could be from Mars for all I care. He’s gorgeous.”  
Castor huffed, “If you like that sort.”  


“If by ‘that sort’ you mean Greek god, then yes, I like that sort. Now move your arse before I zap it to Bulgaria.”  


She managed to facilitate her friend’s move just as Cameron walked by. She flashed the newcomer a winning smile.  


He smiled back, “This seat open?”  


“Of course.”  


The group moved to introduce themselves but Oliveri cut them off when he called, “McKean, Morella.”  


“My sister,” Cameron explained unnecessarily.  


She sat down on the stool, same as her brother. Like him, her bobbed haircut disappeared beneath the folds of the hat. This time, however, the hat’s deliberation was much shorter. Barely a few seconds had passed before it shouted, “SLYTHERIN!”  


A small, satisfied smile graced her pretty face. She stood, locked eyes with her bother, and headed towards him.  


“Could we make some room for Mora?”  


This time, Castor was quick to offer to slide over, “Absolutely. She can sit between us.”  


“Thanks,” a new voice responded. Morella was a slim girl, so she didn’t require much shuffling to accommodate her.  


McGonagall called for the feast to begin, and mountains of food appeared on the tables.  


“Thank God,” Morella sighed, reaching for a plate of turkey, “I was getting ready to eat my own arm.”  


“It could really only improve your appearance,” Cameron deadpanned as he reached, determinedly, for the gravy boat.  


“I’d be careful of that gravy if you want to keep your girlish figure, Cam” she returned, as calmly as if they’d been discussing the weather.  


Scorpius spoke first, effectively ending the volley that was sure to begin, “So it’s Cameron and Morella, right? I’m Scorpius, Scorpius Malfoy.”  


“Oh Jesus, Cameron, we are so rude.” She quickly swallowed her mammoth bite and continued, “I’m sorry, it’s nice to meet you, Scorpius. Thanks for letting us sit here. Are you all seniors too?”  


“Seniors?” Albus asked.  


“They don’t call them seniors here, Mora. They’re seventh years. Right? Your last year is your seventh year?”  


“Oh, yeah. We’re all seventh years… or seniors, I suppose. I’m Albus Potter. This is Zanna Nott and Castor Flint.”  


“Nice to meet you,” the twins said in unison.  


“Get used to that,” Morella explained.  


“We do it a lot,” Cameron followed up.  


“It’s funny,” Zanna laughed, “We should place bets on how often it’ll happen in a day or something.”  


“Sometimes it’s funny,” said Cameron through bites of food. “Usually it comes off as kind of creepy. It’s less ‘Doublemint twins’ and more ‘The Shining twins’.  


The Hogwarts veterans looked at each other blankly, not one of them registering any recognition.  


Morella shrugged, “Never mind, must not be big in England.”  


Albus decided to switch gears, “So why are you guys changing schools so late?”  


Morella rolled her eyes, “My dad’s company transferred him to London. My mom wanted us to stay together as a family. I think it’s stupid, I mean, hello, magic. We could be wherever we want in a second, what does it matter if Dad works in London and lives in New York? But does she listen to reason?”  


“Nope,” Cameron supplemented  


“No, she wanted to move and didn’t want us to stay in New York while they were in London.”  


“Something about how proximity encourages obedience. So, here we are,” Cameron finished.  


“Oh, that’s too bad,” Zanna frowned, “I’d hate it if my parents pulled me out of Hogwarts during my last year to go to, I don’t know, Beauxbatons, or somewhere.”  


“I don’t think they’d be too thrilled to have you either. ” Castor added.  


“Stop it, Castor,” Scorpius rolled his eyes, “She’s going to beat the hell out of you one day, and no one’s going to stop her.”  


“Definitely not,” Albus agreed, “I’d even put money on her.”  


Zanna looked back to Cameron, and arranged her features into the perfect picture of sympathy, “Did you leave many friends behind?”  


“Um, yeah, I guess. We’ll keep in touch, though. It’s not that hard, this day and age.”  


“And,” his sister chimed, “The minute we graduate, I know I’m high-tailing it back to New York. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure it’s wonderful here, but it’s been like a week and a half and I already miss my city.”  


“I don’t know. It seems peaceful here. You know what I saw last night? Stars, Mora. It was a sky full of stars. When was the last time we saw stars in the city?”  


“You can keep your stars. I want my skyline.”  


Zanna smiled, “I’d love to go to New York. I’ve heard it’s amazing.”  


“You’re welcome to visit anytime.”  


The dinner concluded, followed by dessert. This was the first time Cameron and Morella seemed to really light up.  


“Okay,” the girl conceded, “North Atlantic could take a cue from this. Maybe I won’t go back.”  


Scorpius smiled, and then straightened, suddenly remembering something, “Al, I completely forgot. Did you manage to get into advanced potions?”  


“Ugh,” The dark-haired boy groaned in reply, “By the skin of my teeth. I had to do some serious arse-kissing and name-dropping, but I got in. You owe me, Scorp. Advanced Potions is the last place I want to be.”  


“Well, I didn’t want to take it alone, and these two embarrassments to academia,” he gestured towards Castor and Zanna, “Sure as hell weren’t getting in. At least you had a chance.”  


“You know I’m going to fail.”  


“Not if I help.”  


Cameron looked up, “Shit, is Advanced Potions really that hard?”  


Albus nodded. “Professor Chang takes no prisoners. She’s really sweet as, like, a normal person, but when she walks into that classroom she’s completely different. I knocked over a full cauldron last year and I swear, she grew fangs.”  


“I like her,” Scorpius shrugged.  


“Of course you do,” Castor rolled his eyes, “You’re not miserable at potions like the rest of us. You’ll probably have her job one day.”  


“Do all seventh-years have class at the same time?” Morella asked, “We’ve got potions with Professor Chang too.”  


Scorpius’s smile reached his ears this time. “Really? That’s fantastic. Al is going to need all the help he can get.”  


“You know, I was kind of joking before, I’m not that bad. I got in didn’t I?”  


“Only because Chang used to date your dad,” Zanna winked.  


“Seriously?” Cameron laughed.  


“It was one date, like 25 years ago,” Albus defended, “And my dad said it went awful.”  


“I hope she doesn’t hold it against you,” Morella added.  


Scorpius shook his head, “Believe me, he doesn’t need her help to fail. He can manage that all on his own.”  


“You’re all on a mean streak today aren’t you?”  


Zanna scooted closer to Cameron, “We don’t usually bicker so much. Just first day back and all, new people, makes everyone a little edgy.”  


“That’s okay, I really wasn’t concerned. You guys are nothing compared to how bad some of our friends could be back home.”  
“I sure as shit won’t miss Miranda screeching about how someone keeps using her shampoo. Or Kelsey talking to her dumbass boyfriend from Midwestern all night.”  


This was the opening Zanna had been waiting for. “God, what a pain,” she laughed, not having a damn clue what a ‘Midwestern’ was, nor caring one bit, “Do you have a boyfriend, Morella?”  


“Nah,” She said, waving her hand dismissively, “More trouble than they’re worth.”  


Now Zanna, Mistress of Subtlety, went in for the real prize, “Oh. And what about you, Cameron? You missing a girl from home?”  


The boy’s cheeks tinted red, just a hint, “Um,” he coughed, “Well, not exactly.”  


At this, the rest of the group perked up. Zanna just waited, poised in her stance, like a lioness sizing up some poor unsuspecting prey.  


“No girl,” He said, seeming unsure of whether or not he should elaborate. But his features changed quickly, and he shrugged off the flash of indecision, “I do have a boyfriend though.”  


The four students’ eyes widened. Morella, however, went right on eating her pudding. Not one of them had ever met an openly gay student before. Albus wasn’t even sure if he’d met any openly gay person. Well, except for Annie and Sean Finnegan-Thomas. They had two fathers, but Albus didn’t think he’d ever met their parents.  


“Really?” Zanna said, her face falling, “I’m devastated.”  


Cameron shrugged sheepishly, “Sorry.”  


“Is he cute at least? Tell me your good looks are not going to waste.”  


Morella looked up at that, “Oh, he is so cute! They’re adorable.”  


This time Cameron’s cheeks approached the color of a tomato, “Mora…”  


“Oh, shush! Don’t be so modest. Jason’s hot. You should count yourself lucky he ever looked sideways at you, let alone dates you.”  


“Do you have a picture?” Zanna asked.  


“Of course!” Mora exclaimed.  


“I think she was asking me, Mora.”  


“Well, I’ve got one, so who cares?”  


The guys still remained silent, not quite sure how to join in. Albus wasn’t certain what to say. Should he say something? Zanna seemed to be carrying herself well, so he figured he’d let her handle this.  


He was distracted from his thoughts when Morella retrieved the black not-cigarette case from her pocket. Up close now he could see that it wasn’t actually all black. One side was a green harlequin pattern; the other was a sleek black. There was a small circle at the bottom and some silver notches on the side.  


She tapped at the circle, again, in anger.  


“Well, I’d love to show you a picture, if my stupid phone would turn on. Cameron, why isn’t it working?”  


“Now Mora, you know I missed my micro-engineering class this week.”  


“Don’t be snotty, I’m frustrated.”  


“What is that?” Scorpius asked.  


“What is what?” Mora returned, not looking up.  


“That.” The blonde repeated, “That thing you’re holding.”  


“This? It’s my cell phone. Is the iPhone not a thing here?”  


Castor cocked his head to the side, “What’s a cell phone?”  


Morella’s jaw almost hit the floor. Cameron’s wasn’t far behind.  


“It’s a phone… a telephone… that you carry around with you,” Cameron attempted, confusion written all over his face. He’d never had to explain what a cell phone was before.  


“Are you guys screwing with us?” Morella asked, “Like is Ashton Kutcher going to come barreling in here and then you all pull out your phones and take pictures of the gullible Americans?”  


“I know what a telephone is,” Albus said, “My grandpa Arthur has one. It’s a muggle machine that let’s them talk to each other. But his doesn’t look like that. It’s big and metal and has this funny earpiece that voices come out of and you talk into. He never uses it, but he talks about it a lot.”  


“Why do you have a muggle machine?” Zanna asked, picking up Morella’s cell phone and turning it over, warily, “Can’t you talk through the fireplaces or write letters?”  


“Or just use Floo powder?” Castor asked.  


“I mean, we can,” Cameron conceded, “It’s just way easier to call someone and talk to them right away than to write a letter or burst into their living room.”  


“How does it work?” Scorpius questioned, his eye wide with interest.  


“Um, I don’t really know,” Morella shrugged, “You talk into it, then it uses computers or satellites or something to send your voice to the other phone so the other person can hear you, but it goes really fast so you hear it right away.”  


“Does it need electricity?”  


“Oh ho, look who remembers Muggle Studies,” Castor chided. “Mr. Impressive Vocabulary over here.”  


“Yeah, you plug it in, and then it stores the electricity and works for a while.”  


“Well that’s why it won’t work,” Albus contributed, “Electric things don’t work at Hogwarts. We learned that in muggle studies, the few of us who actually went to class.”  


“Nothing electric? Nothing electric? Cameron, did you hear that? Mom and Dad sent us to a place where we can’t use anything electric.”  


“I hope they like their state-funded nursing home.”  


“You think this is payback for the time I snuck that Bourbon into the theater and threw up on Mom?”  


“Or the time I backed Dad’s car into that lamp post?”  


“Oh, come on guys,” Zanna chuckled, “it’s not that bad; we all get by. The owls are fast enough.”  


“Maybe,” Cameron sighed, “But nobody back home uses owls. Jason probably wouldn’t even know what to do if one started tapping on his window.”  


“He’d probably try to kill it with his broom.” His sister replied.  


“Christ, I bet he would. He hates birds. A pigeon landed on his head once when he was nine. He says that day changed the course of his entire life.”  


“God, that boy is so dramatic. How can you live in New York with pigeon trauma?”  


“That’s not the point, Mora. Shit, and I told him I would call him tonight too.”  


“You could write him,” Zanna offered kindly, “If you don’t have an owl, you can use one of ours.”  


Cameron looked up and smiled, brushing his hair out of his face, “Thanks, I think I will. Sorry, I’m dragging you all down, I’m just…”  
He trailed off, unable to find the words to express the depths of his frustrations. To be taken away from his home and friends had been difficult enough, but losing the ability to speak to Jason was physically painful. With every inch of their 3000-mile separation weighing on him, Cameron turned to his sister and mustered up a smile, thankful that at least he wasn’t alone.  


“I promise Jason won’t actually hurt any of your birds,” He offered, attempting to lighten the downcast mood his own self-pity parade had created, “He’ll probably just hide.”  


The group laughed and finished off their desserts. When the plates disappeared, each house’s Head Boy and Girl lead the throngs of noisy students out of the Great Hall and into the corridors. Each house quickly broke off into different directions, with only the Slytherin students heading downstairs.  


“Why aren’t we going upstairs with the rest of them?” Morella asked.  


“The Slytherin dorms are in the dungeons.” Castor answered, “Have been since the school opened a thousand years ago.”  


“Well, why do we have to be tucked away?”  


Castor shrugged, “Who knows? We Slytherins have always kept to ourselves. It’s better that way I suppose.”  


Zanna stepped in, “Well, my mother thinks all this House separation is rubbish. You know, she was in the same year as my father and she never once spoke to him in school. They didn’t meet until after the war. She even gets teary-eyed when she talks about how it was a near-miracle that they ended up married at all.”  


“Of course she’d cry at something like that,” Albus laughed, “That’s a Hufflepuff for you.”  


“Don’t you start on Hufflepuffs, Albus Potter- wayward son of a hundred Gryffindors. Let’s not forget the scarlet and gold that runs through your veins.”  


“Is that weird?” Cameron asked, “Being in a different house than your parents?”  


Zanna shrugged, “Sort of. I mean, think about it. They put you in this house full of people with similar personalities, and then you hang out with them almost exclusively for seven years. Usually you marry someone from the same house, and then you raise kids that are like you. They get in the same house and the whole thing starts all over again.”  


“I don’t think the roster of Slytherin names has changed in centuries,” Castor said.  
“Until Al,” Scorpius contributed, slowing his pace so he could walk with the rest of his friends, “He’s probably the first Potter in Slytherin 

history.”  


“Really?” Morella asked, rejoining the conversation, “What house was your family in?”  


“Gryffindor. My grandmother was muggle-born, but other than her almost everyone in my family is Gryffindor stock, hence, the gold and scarlet crack. I was actually terrified of ending up in Slytherin when I first got here.”  


“But it all worked out, because he soon learned that Slytherins are the best,” Zanna laughed, “But we have no business talking, neither of us are pure Slytherin either.”  


“I am,” Scorpius said, “Slytherins as far back as time itself. Here we are.”  


Cameron and Mora stopped and stared up at the enormous tapestry. The background was a rich emerald green, and the bright silver snake stood out like a beacon. The serpent weaved back and forth, as if possessed by some otherworldly music until it set its cold, black eyes on the new American students.  


The serpent opened its mouth and said, in a surprisingly soft feminine voice, “New students. How lovely. Password?”  


“Uh, no one gave us a password,” Morella said, raising her eyebrow at her new friends.  


“Not you, dear,” The snake interrupted, “I was addressing Miss Alphonse.”  


The Head Girl stepped forward and said, “Hello again, Le Fay. Atropa.”  


“Welcome home.”  


The tapestry rolled up like a window shade, revealing an opening wide enough to accommodate a student or two. When Castor had said that the Slytherin dormitories were in the dungeons, Morella had been expecting cold stone floors and walls with small barred windows. She almost fell over when she saw the lush green carpets and the beautiful tapestries. There were candle-filled chandeliers hovering near the high ceiling and, surprisingly, average-sized windows.  


“Aren’t we in the dungeon?” Cameron asked, tapping Scorpius on the shoulder, “How are there windows?”  


“You read my mind, bro.”  


“Not all of the dungeons are completely underground. Some parts are only partially submerged. If you opened that window you could rest your chin on the ground.” He crossed the room and pulled back the window dressings to prove his point.  


“Oh thank God,” Morella sighed, “I was afraid you were going to tell me that they were fake.” She walked over to where Scorpius was standing and stuck her head out the window. “Do you mind if I smoke in here? I’ll exhale outside.”  


“Um, yeah, I guess that’s fine,” Scorpius shrugged.  


“You rotten little liar,” Cameron barked, “You told me you were quitting.”  


“I was. But that was before Mom and Dad dumped us in the middle ages. I can’t have my phone, my laptop, or my iPod, so you’re out of your mind if you think I’m gonna lose my cigarettes too.” She grabbed a cigarette from her bag, lit it with the tip of her wand, and then took a long drag and blew the smoke out the window. “Holy shit, I can’t believe I almost didn’t bring these.”  


“Fine. But I’m serious, Mora, you need to stop that shit.”  


The girl rolled her eyes, clearly sick of this fight. “You’re tired. When you get tired, you get cranky. Go to bed.”  


“You make me cranky,” Cameron fired back, but his heart wasn’t in it. His features formed a soft, weary smile. “But I get it. Night.”  


“Night, Cameron. Zanna, can you stay up for a minute ‘till I finish this? I’m sure I’ll find some way to screw up finding the dorm room without someone showing me.”  


“Sure,” Zanna replied, draping herself over the arm of the couch.  


“I’ll stay too,” Castor piped up, scurrying over to where Morella was standing, “You can’t only have Zanna to keep you company. You’ll lose your bloody mind.”  


“Twat.” was her only retort.

  


Cameron turned away from his sister to follow Al and Scorpius down the nearest hallway. At its end, the hall spilt into two stone staircases, each spiraling upward in a different direction.  


“These stairs lead to dormitories,” Al explained, “The one on the left leads to the boys’ and the right leads to the girls’. Don’t even bother trying to go up the girl stairs. The founders thought of that.”  


Scorpius raised an eyebrow at his longtime best friend. Cameron laughed and said, “No worries there, my friend.”  


Al’s eyes widened as what he’d said sunk in, “Right. Um. Yes. Of Course. Right.”  


“Right?” Scorpius laughed. Al blushed brighter than Cameron had at dinner, but it only made Cameron laugh harder.  


“Dude,” Cameron started once he’d calmed down, “It’s only as weird as you make it. I get it. This place is hardly San Francisco. Don’t worry about “offending” me. I will survive.”  


“Good,” Scorpius said, “Because it’s very unlikely that this is the last stupid thing he’s going to say on the subject.”  


Al smiled, deciding to just let himself be the arse, “No chance. But I will try to not be too awkward.”  


Together, they began making their way up the stairs.  


“That’s all I ask.”  


Once they’d made it up the stairs and into the last room in the hall, their journey was over. Al and Scorpius headed straight for their respective beds and informed Cameron that his would be the one with his luggage in at the footboard. He found it quickly, and lay down on the soft mattress. All things considered, he had to admit, this place was pretty nice.  


Cameron was roused from his peace when he heard a sharp tapping at the window next to his bed. He looked up and saw a massive owl demanding entrance. A letter was clutched in its intimidating claw.  


“Is that one of your birds?” he asked his new friends.  


The boys turned around, looking surprised.  


“No.” Scorpius said shaking his head, “Merlin, that thing is big. It could kick my owl’s arse.”  


“It could eat my owl,” Albus added.  


“Well, it has a letter,” Cameron shrugged, “It can’t be wild.” He eased off the bed and made his way cautiously towards the window, so as not to spook the immense creature. Once the clasp on the window was released, the bird bullied its way into the warmth of the room and dropped the letter on Cameron’s bed. It then found purchase on the headboard and stuck its head out to Cameron. He stared for a moment until the bird screeched and stuck its neck out further.  


“He wants to be pet,” Scorpius observed.  


“I’m not putting my hand any closer to this thing’s mouth,” Cameron declared. “I feel like I need to apologize to Jason. This is scary.”  


“It’s gonna get worse if you don’t pet him.” Scorpius sing-songed.  


Carefully, Cameron extended his hand. It met the bird’s feathered head without incident so he gave it a little scratch. The owl’s demeanor changed immediately. It gave what could be called a coo and nuzzled the hand affectionately.  
After a few more scratches, Cameron reached for the letter. On it Cameron McKean was scrawled in a familiar hand. He opened the 

parchment and began to read aloud.  
“’Dear Cameron, I’m sure by now you’ve found out about your technological limitations. Before I start getting angry letters, let me apologize. Your father and I were aware of this before we sent you, but we knew it would just be harder to get you to go if you were told. We’re sorry we mislead you, but we’d like you to think of this as an opportunity to gain some cultural awareness. Nine months is not going to be as long as you think, so please don’t spend the entire time locked in your room, cursing our existence.’ Well the woman knows me; I’ll give her that. ‘This is Titus. For obvious reasons, we couldn’t give him to you before you left. You won’t have to share him; your sister has received an owl of her own. I’m sure he’ll spend most of his time between you and Jason, but we would love to hear from you at least once or twice. We want you to enjoy your semester. Please try and have a good time. Love always, Mom and Dad.’ What am I even supposed to say to this?”  


Al and Scorpius shrugged.  


“Thanks for robbing me of my last year of school under the guise of expanding my cultural horizons?”  


“That is what it sounds like.” Al agreed, “Hey, something fell out.”  


Indeed something had. A small, index card sized piece of paper lay on the floor. The writing on this paper was in a different hand, but still familiar to Cameron.  


“‘Son, I tried to tell your mother to get a smaller bird. I know Jason’s afraid, but she wouldn’t listen. I did call him and warn him though, so if he has a heart attack, just know I did all I could. Love, Dad.’”  


Scorpius laughed, “Your dad sounds funny.”  


Cameron tried to smother his reluctant smile, “Yeah, he’s a good guy. I’m glad he called Jason. Now he won’t freak out when I don’t call and he can prepare himself emotionally for Titus.”  


Albus had walked over to the bird and started stroking its feathered ears, “I don’t know how anyone could fully prepare for this thing. Ouch!” Titus snapped at his fingers.  


“Now that we know his name, he probably doesn’t appreciate being called ‘this thing’.” Scorpius advised.  


“Damn, he broke the skin.” Albus raised his bleeding finger to his mouth.  


“Not in your mouth,” Scorpius scolded, knocking his hand away, “That’s like injecting bacteria right into your blood stream.”  


The blonde went to his bag and began rooting around. He pulled out some adhesive bandage and handed it to his bleeding friend.  


“You’re worse than my grandmum, do you know that?” Albus tried, with limited success, to wrap his own wound. Scorpius rolled his eyes and after watching Albus struggle for a minute, grabbed his hand and wrapped it up for him.  


“I’ve met your grandmum; that woman is a powerhouse. I’m taking your insult as a compliment.” He punctuated the last word with a tight pull on the bandage. Al hissed in pain. “Oh, don’t be a baby. It was barely a knick.”  


“Well you’re the one fussing over it like a nanny.”  


“If I didn’t always fuss, you surely would’ve died by now.”  


“Hey Oscar, Felix, do you guys have any paper? I want to get a letter out to Jason tonight.”  


“Yeah, there’s parchment in the top drawer of the desk in the corner,” Albus pointed.  


“Parchment,” Cameron sighed, “Right. And who do I see about the fountain pens?”  


“Quills are in the drawer just below the parchment. Ink too.”  


“I need to stop being sarcastic,” Cameron grumbled, “I keep ending up being right.”


End file.
